Narrative poetry written by Mey Amisa
The story tells about the 23-year old passionate artist named Timothee Tremblay who met Madeleine Cluzet an intellectual aspiring writer during one of his exhibitions,
both feel from the first moment not only connected by affection for each other, but also by their strong longing for artistic freedom ,
which over the time manifests itself into an obsession that brings consequences.
Common memories faded away after Timothee struggles with an illness that affected his abilities to follow a normal life and his passion for art.
During a moment of incapacity he remembers Madeleine again, he believes that she might be his hope to return to a state in which they both felt alive,
a place in which all dreams and desires were within reach.
CHAPITRE DE TIMOTHEE: ANEMOIA
SEA OF ARTS (PROLOGUE)
Fragments are lost inside blurred memories,
the air I want to breathe in which I felt lively,
belongs now to the time.
Inside an empty room I found my place,
it is full of wonder, that is what I believe.
My hand is drawing frequently; silhouettes,
to the melody of the night, I never had heard such
a delightful lullaby.
Colours and brushes are laying on the ground,
papers are marked by fragments of you.
In nothingness I found the key to my inner world,
carried by the wind, longing for your eyes,
a grand escape from the mystery of life.
Underneath the sea, there
are rays of the sun, touching
gently my skin, an obscure voice is
leading me to you.
I do not remember your name, but I know
that your voice was a bridge to a silent place
in which just you and I could be.
Your eyes illuminated everyone, you
were just yourself in such a unique way
that my heart was filled with your love.
We went too far from the ocean,
unable to listen to its waves,
memories are fading away.
Our hearts got deaf,
because we broke our rules.
We followed and did not move,
a punishment inside a jamais vu.
I became an unexpected antagonist to myself,
a journey full of pain, fatigue and loss of vision
is haunting me.
My breath is heavy, outlines of
a human being becomes indistinct
I am trapped in chaos, a cold wind brings me
back to the place where everything began.
A calling from the outside world,
I refuse to face reality.
If I could just stay a bit longer
inside that beautiful lie.
Remy: "Mr.Tremblay, they are waiting for you."
I am breathing in and out.
his eyes filled with empathy,
telling me the truth, meanwhile my eyes
are filled with lies.
Drawings engraved on paper,
trapped inside a loop of incompleteness.
The wind from dawn makes
them dance, a lovely scenery.
I guess it is time to leave,
I know you will find me,
I know you will, before
the crow will come for me.
Closing the door,
I am leaving a sea full of art behind,
you are wandering through my mind
all these are memories of you.
Time changes the place and the place changes the time
in which all dreams were within reach.
INT.PARIS LA LUNE MUSEUM-( EXHIBITION ROOM 1)-NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
ARE YOU FOLLOWING OR MOVING?
Time the essence of progressing,
a wonderful teacher of life, a wisdom
which exists between past and present,
a lesson; coexistent next to
the unknown, the future.
Years ago; one day during spring,
where everything started to bloom,
I was just an unknown human being,
who wanted to be a good listener.
A room full of people, a colourful world filled
with my imagination on canvas.
My absence unbosom their sincerity,
art is revealing me the truth.
A moment filled with euphoria, a place
in which I found you.
Mathis Cluzet: "Maddie could you please show the guest the way to the lightroom?"
Madeleine Rose Cluzet: "Just one moment Papa..."
Mathis: "Madeleine Rose, now! Please do it for your old man."
Madeleine : "But you promised that..."
Alexandre: "One of our guests is asking for you Monsieur."
Mathis: "Thank you Alex, I am coming now.... don't let them wait, Maddie! We talk later okay?"
Madeleine: "Deloyal. "
Is this the face you do when orders
Letters are your desire,
a gift and a curse.
Your attention due
to the movements of your quill,
by writing your thoughts in ink.
My art receives no recognition,
what is inside your mind?
Tell me; are you following or moving?
Remy : "Timothee?"
Timothee: "Oh Remy, you scared me... What took you so long?"
Remy : "So long? It takes a lot of preparation and time to fulfill your extraordinary ideas, not easy by the way (Laughs) "
Timothee : " (Laughs) So....we can start? You finished everything on the list ?Even the polar lights?"
Remy: "Indeed! We can start in five minutes. So stop looking daft and let's rock the show!"
Timothee: "Wait a second..."
He looked at me, meanwhile
again my attention belonged to you.
Remy: "Stop staring at her with those eyes, that bloody creepy Samy!"
Timothee: " Sh..Sh... shut up , don't call me like that! "
Remy: "Did you just stutter? How old are you, five?"
Timothee: "No It is just... ehm..."
Remy: (Laughs) Come on we need to go, I do not get paid if we stay here like trees!"
The fragrance of curiosity was in the air,
I needed to leave you behind but by
looking back at you,I was able to see your first smile,
it was dedicated to my art, at that moment you were mine.
INT.PARIS LA LUNE MUSEUM-( EXHIBITION ROOM 2) -NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
Lights out, darkness occur
noises are fading away.
In silence we all found,
our true nature,a reflection
of our deepest desire.
Colours roam about,
human and art merge,
like it once was, a journey in which
fears can bloom.
Music is rising,
colours are dancing
a walzer, a melody
a symphony of our soul.
Close your eyes; tell me what you feel,
I am longing to know the emotions
which are hidden from me.
Open your eyes; describe me what you see,
I am longing for the scenery which is
hidden from me.
I want them to understand,
the material world as I did.
I freed myself from society,
to find me again.
My identity, a secret
art is telling them my truth.
The truth: In which a lair became a good listener.
Elderly women: "This time he did extraordinary artwork, he is truly passionate."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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